A match every week
by nitilia
Summary: Fuji had seen Echizen around the campus before. He followed his captain around like he was his sole reason for living, and Fuji was pretty sure he was in love.


**This started off as a story I've imagined for too long and turned into something _entirely unrelated._ Like all of my stories, I suppose. I'd saved it to rewrite someday, but since that never really happens in spite of all my planning, I posted it.**

* * *

It started off as matches every week.

But then the matches ran late, so they'd have dinner together. And that would run late, so naturally Tezuka would have to walk him home. What started off as two hours together each weekend eventually led up to the entirety of it.

"I'm starting to think you don't have any other friends, buchou," he told him once, when he'd been called out to the mall to find a present for the boy's cousin.

Tezuka shrugged, shifting through rows of shirts. "You're my cousin's age. I thought you could help."

Ryoma stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked at the ground, helping his former captain in no way at all. "Well, I don't have any other friends," he told him, ignoring his previous statement entirely.

Tezuka spared a glance at him. "I'm not surprised."

He wasn't offended, because he wasn't surprised either. The fact that he had a friend at all was a lot more strange.

"You still have a year before high school," Tezuka reminded him. "Making friends wouldn't hurt."

"People are annoying."

Tezuka looked amused. "And I'm not a person?"

"Nah." He liked Tezuka. He didn't annoy him. He was possibly the only person on the planet who didn't. Save Karupin, but he didn't think Karupin counted as a person either.

He left Tezuka to his ritualistic shirt-shifting and scanned the rest of the store.

 _No. God. No._

Atobe Keigo. He'd recognize that face anywhere. He doubted there was anyone left who wouldn't.

"Hide!" he said, crouching down and trying to drag Tezuka down with him. The older boy stumbled and almost fell on his face, but grabbed the clothes rack at the last moment and stayed his ground.

"Echizen, what –"

"Tezuka!" Atobe's voice called out from across the room. "What a pleasant surprise."

 _Damn you, damn you, damn you._ Ryoma stayed in his crouched position, hoping he wouldn't be seen. Tezuka seemed torn between the shock of seeing his tennis rival and of Ryoma almost killing him. "Atobe?"

Moments later, Atobe stood in front of them, extending a hand for Tezuka to shake. "It's rare to see you around this area," he said, as Tezuka shook his hand. " And..." he paused, looking down at where Ryoma was supposedly hiding. His eyes narrowed. "Brat," he said, with a hint of disdain.

"Monkey king," Ryoma said, with as much disdain as possible.

" _What_ are you doing down there?"

"Hiding from you," he informed him, not embarrassed in the slightest.

Atobe raised his eyebrows. "And what have I done to frighten you so?"

"Your aura. It blinds me."

Atobe's eyes narrowed further, like he knew he'd been insulted but couldn't decide in exactly which way. He turned back to Tezuka. "Why is he around you, anyway? I thought he was still in middle school."

"Buchou invited me," Ryoma told him. "He needs my expertise."

Tezuka seemed to have given up on being part of the conversation anymore and simply sighed.

"'Buchou'? He's not your captain anymore."

"Thanks, monkey king, I didn't realize."

"What brings you here, Atobe?" Tezuka asked, hoping to shut them both up.

Atobe sighed dramatically. "This and that. You know how work is these days. Tedious."

"...you were looking at pink fur hats," Ryoma couldn't help but point out.

Atobe strategically ignored him. "How's Fuji these days?" he asked instead.

"He's fine."

Fuji? Fuji... _Fuji...I know this name, I know this name..._

"Don't strain yourself," Atobe told him, amused. "You played him at the Kantou tournament in your first year."

Yeah, and about a hundred other people. But _Fuji,_ he knew Fuji...

"Rikkai!" he realized at last. "Rikkai, with the triple counters."

"At last, a breakthrough. He'll be your senior next year, you know."

"...I'm not going to Rikkai."

"He's in Seishun, idiot."

"Eh?"

Atobe sighed, his expression one of pity. "He's in Seishun, he quit the tennis club, and he's your beloved captain's best friend. Why is it that I know so much about your school that you don't know yourself?"

"Stalker," Ryoma informed him wisely. But his mind was still stuck at _captain's best friend._

Rikkai, with the triple counters. Brown hair, blue eyes. They never finished their match. The score was 4-3, and the match was called off due to rain, and Ryoma had crashed his bicycle into a wall on the way home. He'd had to forfeit the next day.

Not one of his best memories.

"I want to play him," he said more to himself than to Tezuka, after Atobe had said his goodbyes and left in his limousine.

Tezuka's mouth twitched upwards. "I'll tell him that."

* * *

Fuji had seen Echizen around the campus before. It was hard to miss him – he was the only middle schooler who turned up so often. He followed his captain around like he was his sole reason for living, and Fuji was pretty sure he was in love.

But although he didn't know him much, he could tell that Echizen was pretty slow. Fifteen minutes of _it's impossible to break my Higuma Otoshi, I don't mean that_ you _can't, I mean that it's literally impossible_ hadn't ever managed to sink into his head, and his endless rant of _don't ride your bicycle in the rain, it's not safe, I'll drop you home if you want_ hadn't sunk in either. Also, he'd never seen the boy not in a daze except when he was playing a match. Even on campus he seemed clueless about the amount of attention he was getting. So if Echizen really was in love, Fuji was pretty sure he didn't know it.

What was curious was whether Tezuka knew it or not.

"Echizen's waiting for you again," he said, smiling as he looked out the window on the third floor. The boy was leaning against the wall near the gate, his tennis bag slung over a shoulder, staring at the ground listlessly. "I think he likes you, you know."

Tezuka frowned. "We're friends, yes."

"Don't be dense, Tezuka. I meant as more than that."

Tezuka's frown deepened, but he stayed silent.

"So you _do_ know."

"I don't want it to distract him," Tezuka said weakly. "He's only in middle school. There's tennis, his education..."

" _Really_ , Tezuka?"

Tezuka looked more uncomfortable by the second.

"Do you like him?" Fuji asked.

"I don't know," was the honest reply. "I try not to think about it."

"If you don't want to distract him, why spend so much time with him?"

"I was his captain. I should be there when he needs me."

Fuji raised an eyebrow. "Riiight." In Yanagi's words, there was a ninety percent chance that Tezuka liked the boy back. "I'm heading home, then," he said, picking up his book bag and camera bag and slinging them over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Tezuka nodded in acknowledgement. Fuji shut the door softly behind him.

He didn't leave immediately. Instead, he stood at the window near the end of the corridor and watched students hurry past. He reached for his digital camera absentmindedly and pulled it out, switching it on.

Transferring to Seishun had been a spur-of-the-moment decision on his part. The Rikkai spirit had never suited him. Fuji had never played tennis to win – he'd played simply because it was something to do. That's why he did anything, really. To avoid being bored.

But Yukimura, Sanada, Tezuka, Echizen - the entire middle school circuit - they all played with a passion that Fuji could never match, and didn't ever want to match. Tennis _consumed_ them. Hearing Yukimura screaming in the hospital room was the last straw. The boy had cared too much, and he'd paid for it in ways he could have never imagined.

A group of first years passed by three floors under him, laughing madly at each other. Fuji focused his camera and clicked.

Caring was simply not his forte. He didn't have enough motivation. It was much easier to just watch things happen and not be a part of it. If he didn't care, he wouldn't get hurt. And no one liked getting hurt.

He noticed a boy hiding from his classmates in a tree. He clicked again.

Transferring schools helped him cut off any attachments he'd made unintentionally.

Echizen still stood by the gate, looking slightly put off from waiting so long. A group of first years jeered at him as they walked by. He didn't seem to notice.

Fuji zoomed in and clicked again, adding one more picture to the fifty or so he'd taken of the boy already.

* * *

Ryoma was sick of waiting.

When it seemed clear that Tezuka wouldn't turn up any time soon, he tried to remember the way to the vending machines. In the midst of straining his brain in vain, and completely overlooking the poetry in that statement, he noticed familiar brown hair and closed eyes.

"Fuji Syusuke!" he blurted. "Rikkai. Triple counters."

Fuji looked amused. "Age sixteen, favourite food is wasabi. That's my entire biography right there."

"I want a rematch."

"Really, Echizen. You haven't seen me in more than a year. This is where normal people exchange pleasantries. "

Ryoma scowled. "I want a rematch."

"I _did_ tell you not to take your bike that day."

Ryoma frowned. He didn't like being reminded of that _._ It somewhat hurt his pride.

"I'm not in the tennis club anymore, you know?" Fuji continued.

"That doesn't mean you can't play."

"True." He shifted his bag. "When and where?"

"Now. We could play at the street courts."

Fuji looked at him for a moment, before tugging at the front of his school uniform pointedly. "I'd rather not play in this."

Right. Ryoma had his tennis clothes in his bag, but Fuji would be at an unfair disadvantage. Problems, problems...

Fuji smiled. "Why don't we play on Saturday?"

Ryoma frowned. "I have a match with buchou then."

"Well, that can't take all day, can it? I'll just tag along."

He was torn for a moment between wanting a rematch with Fuji and wanting more time to play Tezuka, but the former won out quickly. "Okay."

Fuji nodded. "I'll be going, then. See you around, Echizen." He waved before he walked out through the gate. Ryoma found it strange that he walked home alone. From what he remembered, Fuji was ridiculously popular with everyone, boys and girls alike.

But then again, so was Tezuka, and he was stuck walking home with him.

* * *

He had no clue why he agreed to play against Echizen. It was the last thing he wanted to do. But the boy hadn't seemed willing to take no for an answer, so Fuji had just gone with the flow. He regretted it now. As much as he liked Tezuka, and as much as he felt obliged to humour Echizen, he simply did not feel like picking up a racket.

The solution to the problem was simple. Saturday came, and Fuji didn't go. Tezuka called him a couple of times, but he ignored his phone and concentrated on sorting through and editing that week's photos. Late at night, when he was sure Tezuka would be home, he called him himself.

"Hello, Tezuka."

"Fuji." His friend sounded resigned. "Why didn't you turn up?"

"Something came up."

"Of course," Tezuka said, clearly not believing him but too polite to call him out on it. "Echizen threw a fit."

Fuji cracked a smile. "I can imagine. I'll make it up to him sometime." He probably wouldn't. "Are you ever going to tell him you like him?" he asked, changing the topic entirely.

There was a pause at the other end of the line. "I never said I liked him."

"But it's clear that you do."

There was another pause as Tezuka debated whether or not he should hang up on him. One side of his head would tell him to mind his manners, while the other side would tell him that Fuji deserved it. Fuji waited patiently for him to make his mind up.

Tezuka hung up. Fuji smiled fondly.

* * *

There were very few things that Ryoma did in his life. He went to school. He played tennis afterwards. Then he walked home with Tezuka, and after they'd parted ways, he went to his (generally empty) house and played with his cat. Or if Tezuka was busy, he went straight to the street courts. Which was where he was now.

Tezuka had never liked the street courts. He said they were too public. Which was rather the _point_ of going there – you could run into anyone. But he could understand where Tezuka was coming from, seeing as the boy almost never played matches without scheduling them before hand. Ryoma, on the other hand, loved the courts _because_ of the unexpectedness of a challenge. And if there wasn't someone to challenge, there was at least someone to annoy.

Today, he'd found Fuji Yuuta.

"Echizen!" the boy called, waving his racket at him. "A match?"

He grinned. "You seem eager to lose."

Yuuta didn't even bother scowling at him these days. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get over here."

Playing Yuuta was always fun. Even if his Super Rising was a pain. When the match was over (6-3) they both collapsed on a bench, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Damn you, Echizen," Yuuta grumbled good-naturedly. "Can't go easy on me, can you."

"I _was_ going easy on you." That earned him a whack on the head.

"I heard you met my brother last week," Yuuta said, when they were breathing normally again.

"...who?"

"...my brother?"

Ryoma paused. He processed that information again, and again, and again, and...

"...Fuji Syusuke is your brother."

Yuuta sweatdropped. "You know, normal people know me _as_ Fuji Syusuke's brother."

A small part of Ryoma's head wanted to sing _It's a small world after all,_ but he ignored that part meaningfully. "He didn't turn up for our rematch."

Yuuta shrugged. "He doesn't really like playing anymore. He says it's boring."

Ryoma scowled.

"Oi, you can't hate him for that."

He most certainly _could._ "He played for _Rikkai._ How could that have bored him?"

"That was probably the problem. You know how they are. _Victory is everything, bow down to the Child of God_ and all that."

True. The Rikkai tennis team was a tiny bit disturbing. Or maybe outright mental. He wondered who came up with all those names, anyway. The Emperor, the Devil, the Trickster...did they all just pick a name themselves, or was there some ceremonial process involved?

Fuji Syusuke had been the Tensai. Ryoma had found that spectacularly lame, until he faced the triple counters.

"Rikkai is disturbing, but it's not _boring_ ," Ryoma decided at last, a bit sulky.

Someone cleared their throat behind them. "I suppose this is where I mention that I'm right behind you."

Ryoma was too surprised to start, but Yuuta jumped off the bench entirely. "Aniki! What are you doing here?"

Fuji smiled. "Tezuka and I were just passing by."

Tezuka? Ryoma looked around, and sure enough, Tezuka stood near the fence, frowning at the state of the courts in distaste.

"Why don't we all get something to eat?" Fuji asked, still smiling.

"Nope," Yuuta said, already picking his things up. "I'm out of here. I'll see you at home." He waved to Echizen, nodded at Tezuka, and left.

"What about you, Echizen?"

Ryoma shrugged. He'd only be alone at home, anyway.

* * *

Tezuka was being awkward. He didn't meet either of their eyes for the duration of the meal.

Fuji couldn't blame him. It was probably his fault, anyway, for confusing him. Tezuka was from a traditional family, and grew up believing that women liked men and men liked women and that exceptions were only ever discussed in harsh tones. At this point, he must have been really lost.

Echizen seemed to not have noticed at all. He'd finished his meal before either of them did, and was fiddling with a cat keychain on his tennis bag absently.

"You really don't want a rematch, do you," he said at one point, frowning at Fuji.

Fuji shook his head. "I really don't." But because this was Echizen, who wasn't good with 'no's, Fuji knew that this wouldn't be the end of it.

"Have you ever played Yukimura-san?" he asked.

Fuji shook his head. "Not once."

"Have you played buchou?"

He nodded. "I lost, of course."

Echizen looked at his former captain for confirmation, but Tezuka was fixated on his meal.

"Tezuka," Fuji said lightly. "Is something wrong?"

Tezuka blinked. "I'm fine."

* * *

Tezuka was being awkward. And distant. He'd told Ryoma not to wait for him because he had work to do, but then he'd gone around town with Fuji instead.

Ryoma glared at the screen of his cell phone. Half of his head told him that he should ask him what was wrong, and the other half told him that he didn't care.

In the end, he gave up on both sides, and texted him the only thing he understood:

' _Is our match on Saturday still on?'_

A reply came two minutes later. _'Of course.'_ And then a minute later, _'I am sorry about today. I wasn't well.'_

Ryoma grinned at his screen. That made no sense whatsoever, but he'd apologized. That meant he didn't entirely hate him yet.

* * *

Tezuka eyed his can of Ponta dispassionately. "That isn't good for you," he told him, for the millionth time that year.

Ryoma ignored him and downed the whole can, before digging in his pocket for more change.

Tezuka sighed, getting himself a bottle of mineral water. Ryoma swore he acted older than his granddad already.

After downing his second can, he sank onto the bench. Tezuka sat down next to him.

"Do you have any more change?" Ryoma asked him.

Tezuka pretended not to hear. "How are you parents?" he asked instead.

Ryoma scowled. "You could have just said you wouldn't give me money."

"I won't give you money. Now, how are your parents?"

He shrugged. "Who knows. I haven't seen them in weeks."

"Your cousin?"

"She's still around. Stressed." It was a miracle Nanako wasn't insane yet. She had to take care of the both of them, work part time, and simultaneously manage her college work. Ryoma didn't envy her. "She has to go somewhere next month, though. Part of her internship. Don't blame me if I oversleep and skip school."

Tezuka frowned. "How long will she be gone?"

"No clue." In reality, it bothered him. While he'd gotten used to an empty house by day, at night it creeped him out.

"You could stay with my family," Tezuka offered.

Ryoma stared at him. "Really?"

"Why not."

He could think of an incredible number of reasons as to why not. He doubted that anyone would be okay with a random kid crashing their house for more than a week.

"Don't you need to ask your parents first?"

Tezuka shrugged. "They'll agree."

"...okay," he said.

There was a moment of silence.

"Thanks," he added.

He couldn't tell if Tezuka was smiling.

* * *

Surely, Echizen had to get bored of waiting some time.

Then again, Fuji still hadn't gotten bored of watching him. It was remarkable how he turned up nearly _every single day,_ no matter the weather, no matter the time, in spite of the distance between the two schools. Either the boy had absolutely nothing to do in life, or he was the most devoted person Fuji had ever met.

"There's too much paperwork," Tezuka told him, massaging his temples. "Tell him to go without me."

Fuji nodded, patting his friend on the back sympathetically. He had no clue why people wanted to be part of the student council. It was a pain.

He waved at Echizen when he reached the gate. "Tezuka has paperwork," he told him. "Do you want me to walk you home?"

Echizen blinked at him, not knowing how to answer.

Fuji sighed. "Okay, I'll rephrase that so it doesn't hurt your pride to agree: would you like to accompany me and prevent me from dying of loneliness?"

Echizen half grinned.

It turned out their houses were on the same side of town – much closer than his was to Tezuka. The walk was mostly silent. Fuji had come to realize that Echizen talked of few things besides tennis, and that the only things they had in common were a tennis match, a bike, Tezuka, and Yuuta.

"You don't talk much," he said at one point.

"Neither do you," came the reply. "Why do you walk home alone?"

He didn't expect that. "I take a lot of detours," he said. "My classmates either go home, or karaoke, so our routes don't really fit together."

There was a pause. "You call them your classmates," Echizen said, like he was wondering if that meant anything. "Not your friends."

Fuji glanced at him. "Observant, aren't you."

"Not really."

"Yes, I didn't think so." There was another pause. "How long have you known Tezuka?"

"First year. You?"

"Preschool."

Echizen looked horrified. "That's disturbing."

Fuji could imagine. Thinking about his own former captain in diapers wasn't really mentally pleasing either. But Tezuka..."He was cute back then," he said smiling, and actually meaning it. After that Tezuka had grown into some kind of grandfather-wannabe, and he'd never been cute again.

Echizen coughed. "That's even more disturbing."

Well, seeing was believing. "Why do you wait for him every day? No friends in middle school?"

"Nope."

He didn't seem upset about it. "Why, what happened to the tennis team?"

"It's full of idiots." Echizen stopped and gestured towards a side street. "My house is over there." He seemed to hesitate for moment before remembering his manners. "You could come, if you want."

He was curious to see where Echizen lived, so he followed him. This place was only a block away from his own house. The area seemed deserted, and Echizen's house was one of two on the entire street. He wasn't surprised to see that he had a tennis court at the back.

Echizen let himself in. "It's messy," he warned Fuji, as he followed him into the empty house.

"Your parents aren't here?"

"They travel a lot. Never home. I live with my cousin."

Fuji frowned. "How old is your cousin?"

"Twenty. She's not here now. She only gets home late at night."

The place really was a mess. Dirty dishes were stacked in the sink, papers and books were strewn across the floor. Sitting amongst the papers, glaring at him suspiciously, was a Himalayan cat.

"This is Karupin," Echizen introduced awkwardly. "She's my..um, cat."

Everything Fuji knew about Echizen was finally starting to tally up. No wonder he was so unsociable – he didn't have a proper family, and he had no friends at school. He'd attached himself to Tezuka because he was one of the only people in his life. He spent all his time at the street courts because there was no one there at home. Fuji distanced himself from people because he knew attachments hurt. Echizen hadn't even made attachments to begin with.

Except tennis, of course. And Tezuka. And from what he could tell, his cat.

* * *

Tezuka's house was terrifying.

He didn't mean to be rude. He was just so used to running around his house and making a mess and doing whatever he wanted (and then dutifully helping Nanako with the household chores), that all the pristine cleanness and politeness and _people_ terrified him. People asked him how he was; nodded at him when he entered a room. Tezuka's mother wouldn't let him wash his own plate. Tezuka's father talked to him about world economy. His grandmother petted his cat.

He wasn't entirely sure how to function in such a foreign place.

Tezuka frowned at him as he was leading him to his room. "Is something wrong?"

"Nope." All was well. He was well. But _the place was FREAKING SCARY –_

" _Echizen,"_ Tezuka said sternly, placing a hand on his head. "Stop panicking."

"I'm not panicking," he said sullenly. "I'm just...adjusting."

Tezuka seemed amused. "Alright." He opened the door of the guest room. "You'll stay here."

Ryoma nodded his thanks. "Where's your room?"

"Across the hall."

"Okay."

Tezuka shut the door behind him as he left.

He was in Tezuka'shouse, he realized. He was in _Tezuka_ ' _s_ house. He'd tried pestering Tezuka to let him come over before, but it never worked out. And now he was here, and he was freakishly nervous and surrounded by humans and wanted to go home.

But the guest room was nice. Infinitely less frightening than the rest of the place. He pulled off his socks and sank onto the bed, closing his eyes. Bliss.

He forgot about dinner, and Tezuka let him sleep through it.

* * *

Tezuka's grandfather unnerved Ryoma.

He sat directly across from him a breakfast, and he wouldn't stop watching him. Had this been any old man, Ryoma might have glared back, but since this was _Tezuka's grandfather,_ he forced himself to behave himself.

"Why make us pay _taxes_ if they're not going to _do_ anything with them?" Tezuka's father demanded.

"Would you like some more eggs, Echizen-kun?" Tezuka's mother asked.

Tezuka ate his food silently.

Tezuka's grandfather kept watching him.

* * *

Fuji found Echizen near the vending machines. He was digging in his pocket for change.

"Tezuka's late again, hm?"

Echizen scowled. "Yeah. And I can't go home without him." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "His place is terrifying."

Fuji laughed, taking out a few coins to buy himself a drink. "I know. His mother is nice, but his grandfather is...a bit disturbing."

"Does he talk?"

"When you least expect it. And his word is law to them." Fuji had never understood why, because the man was old fashioned, and was ruled by superstition and tradition. Maybe that was why. "Tezuka worships him."

"I can tell." Echizen glared at his can of Ponta, sitting on the bench. Fuji sat down next to him. "I thought you didn't like people," Echizen said, somewhat randomly.

"...I never said that."

"You stay away from everyone. All you do on campus is take photos of people."

Fuji looked at him seriously. "You're not as oblivious as I thought."

Echizen smirked. "Fuji-senpai, if you can see me from three floors up, then I can see you from three floors down."

That was the first time he'd bothered to refer to Fuji by name since _Fuji, Rikkai, triple counters._ "I don't dislike people," he said honestly. "I just prefer not to get attached."

Echizen frowned.

"But, okay, you thought I didn't like people. So what's the contradiction?"

He hesitated again. "I see you more than I'd expect to."

...Well. That took him by surprise. He did, now that he thought about it. He looked for Echizen every day after school. He met him near the street courts sometimes. Over the past month, he'd taken to walking the younger boy home whenever Tezuka wasn't around. "You make a good point," he said, frowning.

"So...you'll be around as long as you're not attached?"

He'd gotten an entirely wrong message. Fuji forced a smile. "I suppose that was the plan."

Now, he had a problem.

* * *

Tezuka's father was glaring at the newspaper at the breakfast table. "So many rights for homosexuals these days," he scowled. "I don't know what this country is coming to."

"Anata!" His wife admonished. "We have a guest present."

The man shook his head. "I'm sure he agrees with me. Don't you Echizen-kun?"

Ryoma frowned. He wasn't even sure if he was straight himself, what with his ridiculous attachment towards Tezuka. "Not really, no."

A horrible silence followed his words. Tezuka looked uncomfortable next to him.

Tezuka's mother laughed nervously. "Well, you know children these days. They like questioning rules, right, Echizen-kun?"

... _what?_ That didn't make much sense. It didn't seem like the right moment to say it, but Ryoma couldn't help but add, "I don't actually know if I'm straight."

Tezuka's plate fell onto the floor and shattered. His grandfather's eyes narrowed.

"Obscenity," he bit out. "Such blatant obscenity."

* * *

The rain poured endlessly outside. Fuji's classmates huddled together under coats and umbrellas as they left the school, half of them squealing in excitement of getting wet and the other half grumbling about the cold. Fuji didn't particularly feel like either. He sat at his desk in class and flipped through the pictures on his camera absently.

Echizen was an idiot. He'd figured out that much. But even then, _even then..._

"Tezuka, he's probably scared out of his mind knowing he can't go back. You should at least explain things to him."

Tezuka frowned, looking up from whatever student council work he was doing. "I know. I'll explain after school."

"It _is_ after school."

"He'll be at the tennis courts."

"It's freaking _raining,_ Tezuka."

"Then he would have gone to his house."

"You don't even have actual work to do! Would you stop pretending and fix this?"

Tezuka paused, looking up calmly to face him. "There is nothing for me to do."

For one moment, for one horrible moment, all Fuji wanted to do was slap his friend across the face. He curled his fingers into his palm and stuffed his hand into his pocket. Then he turned stiffly and picked up his things. "I'll see you tomorrow." Tezuka didn't respond as he left.

He stopped at his usual spot at the end of the corridor. It was hard to see through the window, but Fuji could just about make out people...

...was that Echizen?

His eyes widened and he leaned closer to the glass to see better. That was definitely Echizen. He stood in his usual position near the gate – no coat, no umbrella, nothing. Fuji abandoned his window and took the stairs two at a time, opening his umbrella on the way. When he finally reached the ground, the wind hit him hard. It was freezing. How long had Echizen been here?

He managed to make it to the gate without slipping on the mud. Echizen was utterly drenched and shivering, staring at him blankly as he came towards him. He held the umbrella over both of their heads. "You idiot," Fuji snapped. "What were you thinking?"

The boy shrugged. "I forgot my umbrella," he mumbled.

"And you didn't think to go home?"

"Buchou..."

"He's busy today. Student council duties."

Echizen looked stricken. "No. No, he doesn't have any. The vice president just went by and he said buchou was free."

"That's not what he told me," Fuji said, although he knew it was true. Tezuka really _was_ free that day.

"He's mad, isn't he? He wants me to leave."

"He doesn't even know you're here. And this _doesn't matter right now,_ you're sopping wet and you need to get home before you fall sick – "

"I didn't mean to give him trouble!" the boy said, distressed. "I didn't think he had anything against gay people, I thought...I didn't think..."

Fuji placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Echizen. Tezuka doesn't hate you, but he isn't coming. Let's get you somewhere warm."

He seemed almost hysterical. "I can't go back there."

"We'll go to my house, then."

* * *

" _Fuji."_

Fuji's eyes narrowed. "...Tezuka."

" _Is Echizen with you?"_

"Yes."

" _How is he?"_

"He has a fever. He stood in the rain for too long waiting for you. I had to almost drag him home."

" _..."_

"I hope you feel guilty," he said mildly. He stopped himself before he could say something he might regret later, like _I hope your grandfather finds out you liked him._

He hung up before Tezuka could respond.

* * *

Fuji's house wasn't scary at all. Yuuta was there, for one. His mother was sweet, for another. And Fuji's father didn't demand that he debate with him about anything and was content to let him exist on his own.

He found it incredibly strange that he felt more welcome at his former rival's house than he did at his former captain's.

"You liked Tezuka, didn't you?" Fuji asked him when he'd recovered from his fever.

Ryoma shrugged. "I don't know." It didn't matter. It was clear that he wasn't invited to hang around him anymore.

It struck him then that he really, really didn't have anything to do without Tezuka. He had so few people in his life. There were the people at the street courts, but he only ran into them occasionally. There was Fuji, but he'd made it clear that their friendship was temporary. There was (cough, cough, splutter) _Atobe,_ but that was just disturbing.

He really had liked Tezuka. More than that, he'd depended on him for everything.

"You see what I said about attachments?" Fuji asked him, smiling grimly. "They never work out." He stood to leave the room. "You're free to stay here for as long as you want, by the way. My mother loves you already."

"Would she kill me if I wasn't straight?" he couldn't help but ask.

Fuji rolled his eyes. "Echizen, I'm not straight either. It doesn't _matter."_

* * *

Honestly? He didn't actually know why he hid from Atobe, either. It was more of a reflex than anything else. His brain identified something he didn't want to see, so he hid. It was as simple as that.

"Brat," the older boy scowled. "My aura can't be _that_ blinding."

"You don't understand your own power, monkey king."

"Just...get out of there, will you? Surely you have some pride left."

Ryoma crawled out from behind the bench and straightened up to face him. "What do you want?" he asked bluntly.

"You haven't been hanging around your captain these days."

"...yes...?"

"Why?"

Ryoma paused. And stared at him. Hard. "You just drove twenty miles – "

"- twelve, actually – "

"- to ask me why I haven't been hanging around your one true inspiration."

Atobe frowned. "I wouldn't quite phrase it like that."

"God, monkey king, you _really_ have nothing to do."

"I was _concerned_ about the well-being of...people."

"...people."

"Yes. People."

"You're hopeless."

* * *

When Echizen's cousin returned and he went back to his own house, Fuji was surprised to find him waiting at the gate again.

"Echizen's here," he said aloud. Tezuka looked uncomfortable.

He left Tezuka to his discomfort and went down the stairs to meet Echizen at the gate. "Echizen? You didn't go home?"

Echizen shook his head. "I thought you'd be dying of loneliness."

Fuji smiled. "Considerate, aren't you?"

"Of course."

* * *

 **.**

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 **This is a mess. Atobe wouldn't get off the screen. Please review?**


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